


Pride and Privilege

by Overwrought



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asian!Bings, F/M, Genderswap, Mixed!Darcy, POV Multiple, and identity politics, social commentary on the current state of capitalism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-25 15:49:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20726765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overwrought/pseuds/Overwrought
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a hot chick is in need of a good banging.In another time and place, the gregarious Ben Ellis attracts the notice of the uptight Darcy Fitzwilliam as everyone else circles her vivacious friend Belinda Chang. Genderswaped Modern AU Pride and Prejudice.





	1. It Is a Truth Universally Acknowledged

**Author's Note:**

> I've always identified with Darcy, the awkward bastard, so I decided to write a genderswapped version where Darcy is an introverted female who is harshly judged for having resting bitch face and failing to conform to society's standards of a welcoming female and Elizabeth is a male with a biting wit. Then I decided to put it in contemporary Seattle, just because. Plot will mirror those of the original book.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a hot chick is in need of a good banging.

Whatever the feelings or views of such a female may be upon entering the male gaze, the truth is so well fixed in the minds of the local males, that she is immediately reduced to an object, if not a prospect.

* * *

I found out about the Belinda and her entourage one morning when making coffee before my morning commute. Bernice was reading the morning paper, and Bernard was on the front porch, observing a group of movers haul furniture and boxes from truck to the facing house.

“Jimmy Long says the girl moving in across the street is hot,” was Bernard’s comment.

Bernice turned the page of her newspaper.

“Yeah, young and smoking."

“I find it hard to believe that Jimmy Long used the words ‘hot’ or ‘smoking,’” Bernice replied.

“Well, he said that she was young and friendly. She’s from Southern California or something. Her father’s connected with some tech start-up. They’re Asian."

“What’s her name?"

“Belinda Chang."

“Does she have a boyfriend?"

“Definitely single. Young, rich girl. That’s a great opportunity for the Mikes."

Bernice scoffed. “How so?"

“Well, one of them is sure to hook up with her. It would be a wasted opportunity if they didn’t."

“Right, because that’s why rich young girls move to new cities. To hook up with the guys who live across the street."

“I’m not saying she’s planning it on a conscious level—but why is she moving here, as opposed to San Francisco or New York? This is probably some kind of summer vacation. And summer vacation means a summer fling. Why don’t you bring over a casserole or something?"

“Why would I do that?"

“Isn’t that what women do?"

“Why don’t you let the Mikes figure out how to meet her themselves. Or you could just walk over and say hi when you see her. Maybe she’ll like you."

Bernard gave a throaty laugh. “I may have been a stud in my day, but I’m just an old dude now. I think I’ll let the Mikes pursue her."

"Maybe if I see her I’ll throw in a good word for Ellis."

“Why? No offense, Ellis—but he’s not as good looking as Jarvi, or as smooth as Linderman, but you always seem to want to hook Ellis up with the good prospects."

I decided it was time to leave for work, but as I was walking down the street to the bus stop, I heard Bernice say, “Ellis is a good guy. He’s smart and has a good sense of humor. I don’t see why he shouldn’t have a girlfriend."

Bernice was a pretty nice person herself. I don’t know why she put up with her blow-hard, somewhat—okay, obviously—lascivious boyfriend, but sometimes I think she enjoyed being the straight man to his ridiculousness. Besides managing the house we Mikes lived in, I don’t think she had a job. In any case, she spent her time reading newspapers and chatting with Bernard. She hadn’t raised rents on us exorbitantly, despite the housing shortage and the sudden trendiness of the Ballard area. Sometimes I think she liked having a house full of Mikes, just like she liked Bernard because his name was similar to her own. She was weird like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know too much about Seattle, but I sometimes read the Seattle Times and spend part of my summers there. Everyone is genderswapped and their names are likewise reversed. I love Austen's romance, but also her social commentary, so I'm trying to replicate both.
> 
> Update: I decided to rename the "Mikes" as "Bens," since it fits in more with the whole reversed name thing.


	2. Belinda Chang is Coming for Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When’s the barbecue again?” Bernard asked.
> 
> “In about two weeks."
> 
> “So we won’t get to know this chick until the barbecue,” Bernard sulked.
> 
> Bernice relents and invites her new neighbor over to be drooled over.

That night, for dinner, we were informally gathered around the kitchen and living room, when Bernice complimented me on my pasta sauce (I had cooked that night) and said it would win points with Belinda Chang.

“How are we supposed to win points with Belinda Chang when we don’t even know her yet?" muttered Bernard. "We don’t have an ‘in.’"

“We’ll see her around,” I responded, hoping to stave off some argument about social niceties and gender roles. “Jimmy might introduce us, and there’s that neighborhood barbecue soon."

“I wouldn’t count on Jimmy Long introducing us. He's probably going to try to monopolize her time."

What’s that psychological defense mechanism? Projection?

“You’re probably right. Jimmy will probably hoard this girl all to himself. It’s too bad you’re incapable of walking across the street and talking to her yourself."

Upset at Bernice’s sarcasm which, for once, was obvious, Bernard looked for another subject.

“Benji! How many times have I told you to keep your cat away during dinner? We’re eating here! There’s going to be cat hairs in my pasta."

Benji shooed his cat from the armchair where his cat was waiting, obviously hoping for a morsel, but otherwise ignored Bernard.

“When’s the barbecue again?” Bernard asked.

“In about two weeks."

“So we won’t get to know this chick until the barbecue,” Bernard sulked.

“That’s an interesting insight. Two weeks isn’t very much time to get to know someone. What do you think, Murray?” Bernice asked our resident graduate student, Benjamin Murray, who had emerged from the depths of his room to spoon some pasta onto a plate.

“I study psychology, Bernice. Not philosophy,” Meyer answered. And so he returned to his room.

“Well, Murray doesn’t have any insight, but we can still talk about getting to know Belinda Chang."

“I’m sick of talking about Belinda Chang."

“That’s too bad. Well, maybe you can manage to talk to her tomorrow, because I invited her other for coffee."

“She’s coming over tomorrow! Sweet! I knew you would do us a solid. What does she look like? Is she as hot as Jimmy Long says? Whose type do you think she’d be? Or which type does she prefer?"

“How would I know? All I know is that the cat sure isn't bothering you anymore."

Benji's cat was in the process of licking some of the meat sauce off of Bernard’s plate.

Bernard did not, in fact, care. He shoved his plate onto the coffee table and continued talking.

“I know some girls are into that geeky look now. Or that hipster look. But still, as long as a guy’s good-looking, it can’t be all bad. Benji! You’re a hot young stud. She’ll probably be all over you

“For sure! I may be young, but I’m tall and good looking,” he said, standing up and throwing out his arms. "And I’m ripped,” he added, flexing his bicep.


	3. The Barbeque

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing Belinda told me when we got into the car was that we were going to a party.
> 
> “Seriously? Will I at least have time to change?"
> 
> Darcy Fitzwilliam is dragged to a barbeque.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First POV from Darcy Fitzwilliam! I find that writing in her voice is much more authentic to me, whereas the chapters from Ben Ellis are kind of perfunctory. Hopefully that will get better as the story moves on.

Belinda Chang came for coffee the next morning, at the unseasonably early hour of 7am. She was really in and out in 10 minutes. From our bedroom on the second floor, we saw a figure in a blue dress get into a black car and drive off.

“Pretty sweet ass for an Asian,” I noted.

“Hmm,” Jarvi said, and walked away from the window.

Apparently this chick was not just young and rich, but working for her daddy’s company. Bernice told us over coffee that she was helping set up an office in tech college over in Fremont.

All the gossip was about Belinda Chang over the next few days. Our next-door neighbor, Mr. Charleston, said she was very young, very pretty, very sweet, and had a group of friends coming to stay with her that would be in Seattle in time for the next neighborhood barbecue.

Bernice actually invited the esteemed Belinda Chang over for dinner, but, it seemed that Belinda had a business dinner downtown.

“I didn’t know she was a working girl. She might be one of those workaholic types. That’s not good," commented Bernard.

But Mr. Charleston mentioned that she might be just going downtown to show her friends around. They would all be attending the neighborhood barbecue.

At first it seemed like Belinda Chang was bringing over a whole fraternity.

“Maybe they're her employees? I hear with these start-ups, the distinction between friend and employee is very fine."

In the end though, there were only two guys who showed up, along with two other women.

Belinda Chang was indeed, pretty hot. She was petite, but surprisingly well-endowed, and had a pretty, smiling face and a bubbly personality.

The two guys were her brothers, both somewhat hipsterish. The older one was married, and his wife was also pretty good-looking, but it was her friend, Darcy Fitzwilliam, whom everyone was buzzing about when she first walked up.

Apparently she was the heir to some big-deal winery in Napa Valley, but most apparently, she looked like a model. From her svelte figure to her killer bone structure to her designer dress, she looked like she had just stepped off a runway.

The women complimented and dissected her fashion choices (that’s how I knew her dress was designer—it was still somewhat speculative), and the men judged and found that she was way hotter than Belinda Chang.

After a while though, this fervor turned into hate. She was transformed from goddess to snob. She seemed to look around at our little barbecue with disdain, seemed generally bored with the events and people around her, and went around with this look on her face that was a mix of dismissiveness and worry, like she was worried that our bourgeoisie activities would stick to her like mud on her Gucci shoes.

Belinda soon knew everyone and was everywhere. She danced to the DJ, cracked jokes with Lucas Charleston, said the party was "so fun!," and talked about throwing one herself soon. She was just easy to get along with.

Darcy Fitzwilliam, on the other hand, seemed to talk only with Belinda’s brothers and to dismiss other attempts at conversation. She spent most of the barbecue wandering around park, occasionally nibbling at the food. She was judged and found wanting. She was arrogant and frigid, and everyone hoped they would never see her again.

Bernard especially disliked her, at least after she slighted one of his fellow bros—me, actually. At some point during the party, I was standing by the snack table, munching on popcorn. Darcy was nearby, and Belinda came over to convince her to dance.

“Come on, Darcy! You should be dancing! It’s stupid to be sitting around by yourself. Come dance!"

“No. You know I hate dancing, especially with strangers, and at a place like this, it's out of the question. Besides, whom am I going to dance with? You? Your brothers? They’re both busy, and so are you."

“Don’t be so picky! There’s a lot of hot guys here, and a lot of them are really nice."

“You’re dancing with the only guy here who is remotely hot.”

She was referring to Jarvi. He looks like one of those Norse gods.

“He’s super hot! But one of his roommates is over there. He’s pretty good-looking too, and really funny. Do you want me to introduce you?"

Darcy deigned to glance over at me.

“Do you mean that Ellis guy? He’s okay, but it would take someone pretty special to get me to dance. Besides, I’m not in the mood to do charity work. You’d better go back and dance with your pretty boy. You know you’re wasting your time with me."

Charity work? Ouch. And who does she think she is?

The rest of the night passed uneventfully. We all trotted home at some point, some (Murray) earlier than others. Bernice hadn’t gone at all, and was still up reading when we got back. Bernard gave her a play by play until Bernice told him to stop.

But nothing would shut Bernard up about Darcy Fitzwilliam.

“Ellis is much better off without her. She’s a frigid bitch, not worth the time of day. She was so stuck-up! She walked here and there in her stiletto Louboutins, looking down on the rest of us. I wish you could have been there to put her in her place. She’s a piece of work."

* * *

The first thing Belinda told me when we got into the car was that we were going to a party.

“Seriously? Will I at least have time to change?"

I was wearing business attire, for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah, we’ll have plenty of time. It doesn’t start until 7 or so,” Belinda answered in that good-natured, careless way of hers that is no guarantee of anything.

We had our business lunch first. Tech companies aren’t my specialty or anything, but Belinda wanted me there because I at least had some experience running businesses, whereas she had basically none. She wasn’t totally on her own with setting up the Seattle headquarters, but she had an important position and I know she wanted to do well and impress her dad.

The business lunch ran long, of course. Bill practically fell asleep. Belinda might want to impress her dad, but Bill had approximately zero interest in his family’s business—which is odd, because he seems to know a lot about computers in general.

I had already decided to skip the party. All I wanted to do was settle in at the house and then take a long soak. Unfortunately for us, the park where the barbecue was intercepted those plans.

“Wait, aren’t we going to at least drop off our stuff?” I asked, as Belinda parked her car.

“We’ll just stop by for a minute to say hi,” Belinda replied. But it was obvious that she was already excited at the prospect of people and a party, and the chances of prying her away in a timely manner were zilch.

I craned my head around to look at Hurst. She's Jack’s wife, and like me not a socializer. She gave a shrug and followed her husband and brother-in-law out of the car.

The barbecue seemed idyllic enough. There was music and kids running around, a couple of grills going, and picnic tables laden with snacks.

“We are way overdressed for this,” I muttered, as “Best Day of my Life” ironically started up.

We all ambled up behind Belinda, where she graciously introduced us to . . . a bunch of people. To be honest, I only remember Jimmy Long, because he was the only Asian person, and because he took me over to the table to get some wine.

“I don’t know if it’ll be up to your standards though,” he joked. Belinda had mentioned that my family owned a winery.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I responded, awkwardly. Even now I don’t know what I should have said. Cracked some joke probably. Sarcastically and pompously said that I would be sure to judge it objectively or something.

When I made my way back to Belinda, she was with a gaggle of girls that were complimenting her dress. Belinda was dressed more . . . versatilely than I was, in a hot-pink sheath dress. They turned their attention to me.

“We love your dress too! Is it designer?"

“Um,” I replied, “It’s Donna Karan. But it’s off the rack. Does that count?" Because according to my acquaintances who attend Fashion Week, it does not.

A pause.

"My shoes are Jimmy Choo,” I offered.

Yes, I spent $500 on a pair of shoes. So sue me. They’re an investment, and supposedly more comfortable than other high heeled shoes. Anyway, my comment elicited coos and fawnings, and I was asked to display my heels, which I did, awkwardly, because walking around grass in stilettos is not fun.

It became increasingly not fun as the night went on. Well-designed or not, 3-inch heels cannot be good for your feet. They are designed for walking from a car to a table in a restaurant, and out to another car. Also, I’m not sure if traipsing around wet grass is good for expensive designer shoes. If only I embraced my rich girl-ness, I could laugh it off and just buy another pair.

I tried for the first hour. I trailed after Belinda as she fluttered from group to group. To be fair, people were escorting her around, but she was obviously eager to be escorted and introduced. At one point we were talking to a man named Lucas Charleston, or rather, we were his audience for his jokes.

Joke after joke after joke. I hardly got any of them. The ones I did get just didn’t seem funny to me, but they always roused a loud round of laughter. Belinda laughed so hard, she grabbed onto Lucas’s arm to maintain balance. At least Lucas Charleston was married, or he’d have decided he was her new man right then and there.

Belinda doesn’t know she constantly gives off the impression that she’s into you. She likes everyone, and she does have a lot of crushes, but those crushes are far outnumbered by the stalkerish guys that she has the knack of attracting.

I guess part of it is that Belinda has such an effervescent personality. She likes people and she likes to laugh. I don’t think she thought those jokes were any funnier than I did, but she was ready and willing to laugh at them.

“So I printed out the picture for him, and the expression on his face when I handed it to him was like (cue exaggerated incredulous/pleased face)."

Everybody laughed again. I smiled, for politeness’s sake, and excused myself.

After checking up on the rest of our scattered group, I sat down to watch the kids play frisbee with their dogs. When their moms took them home for the night, I watched the complex mating rituals of the dancers, some of which I’m pretty sure were the fathers and husbands of the kids and moms that had gone home for the night. There were way more guys than girls around by the time the sun was setting—at around 9:30 PM.

“Women are urged to join the festivities, in order that the men of the tribe can claim 'no homo' as they gyrate to Beyonce,” I think to myself.

“Come on, Darcy! You should be dancing! It’s stupid to be sitting around by yourself. Come dance!"

I was going to beg Belinda for the car keys, or at least directions to the house she had rented, but her comment about being stupid really ticked me off. She thinks a lot of my life choices are stupid. There’s nothing wrong with staying in on a Saturday night and reading a book.

“No,” I answered sullenly, "You know I hate dancing, especially with strangers. And at a place like this it's out of the question."

Seriously. She knows I hate dancing. And being around strangers. It’s not so bad in a small group, but it’s terrible in a crowd like this, especially when they all seem to know each other already and have their own cliques. Also: stilettos + grass = no.

"Besides, whom am I going to dance with? You? Your brothers? They’re both busy, and so are you,” I say, indicating the tall blond guy she’d been hanging onto for the last two dances. This indicated to me crush, as opposed to unthinking exuberance.

“Don’t be so picky! There’s a lot of hot guys here, and a lot of them are really nice."

“You’re dancing with the only guy here who is remotely hot."

“He’s super hot!” she whispers to me in a way that is more for dramatic effect than for privacy. "But one of his roommates is over there. He’s pretty good-looking too, and really funny. Do you want me to introduce you?"

I glanced over to where Belinda was gesturing. Ben Jarvi, I thought. I tried and run through what I know about Ben Jarvi. He lives in a house with several Bens, I remember. Who’s the funny one?

“Do you mean that Ben Ellis guy? He’s okay, but it would take someone pretty special to get me to dance. Besides, I’m not in the mood to do charity work.” Everyone is hot to Belinda. The guys who are actually handsome qualify as super hot. Besides which, I had been through this game before. When Belinda hooks up with a guy she feels the need to pair me off with someone—no matter how unsuitable—so that she won’t feel guilty for making me the third wheel. I wasn't going to attach myself to some stranger just to make her feel like a good friend.

“You’d better go back and dance with your pretty boy. You know you’re wasting your time with me."

And since Belinda did know, she pranced off to dance with Ben Jarvi. Soon, a guy that I identified as Ben Ellis also moved away from the snack table. Had he been close enough to overhear? But I hadn’t said anything particularly bad, had I?

Anyway, he seemed over it. He joined the mosh pit and started to dance in an exaggeratedly bad way with what I assume were his other roommates.

“Having given up on acquiring another token female, the males of the species content themselves with dancing with each other in a mock-mate dance,” I narrate. In some ways, it seemed pretty pathetic. The last vestiges of the party dancing to Top 40 because they couldn’t bear to go home and end the night. On the other hand, some of them did genuinely seem to be having fun. Belinda at least was, dancing with her blond godling.

Finally (past 11!) we literally drove two blocks down to Belinda’s house. She was chattering about throwing her own party soon, but I was getting used to walking on flat feet again. I collapsed into bed without even unpacking.


	4. Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jarvi and I got back to our bedroom (we had the master bedroom on the second floor), Jarvi went from barely saying two words about Belinda to gushing about her. 
> 
> Jarvi's thoughts about Belinda, and Belinda's thoughts about Jarvi. Ellis and Darcy chime in too.

When Jarvi and I got back to our bedroom (we had the master bedroom on the second floor), Jarvi went from barely saying two words about Belinda to gushing about her. 

“She’s really cool,” he said, “outgoing, funny, down to earth, and she’s so—easygoing, you know?" 

“She also actually turned out to be hot,” I replied, “Which is, of course, one of the criteria for being a ‘cool girl.’ The most important one, some say." 

Jarvi ignored me. “She really thought I was funny too. I didn’t expect her to be so nice." 

“Well let’s face it: girls are always nice to you. You do tend to be the best looking guy in the room.” Let’s just say that Jarvi has been compared to Brad Pitt. Or, nowadays, that guy who plays Thor. “So being nice to you isn’t exactly a character recommendation. But she does seem nice, and I give you permission to like her. You’ve liked a lot of stupid girls." 

“Come on, Ellis." 

“You know what I mean. Once a girl likes you, she can have no faults, no matter what she does, no matter how she takes advantage of you." 

I don’t know why, with Jarvi’s looks, he always gets the bitchiest girlfriends. Maybe it’s because they’re just more aggressive compared to other girls. They get their claws into him and then hold onto him come hell or high water. And then, because Jarvi’s such a generous guy, they have him waiting on them hand and foot. Then because things are too easy or something, they end up cheating on him. 

“My girlfriends haven't all been that bad. What about Chloe?” Jarvi countering with one of his non-cheating ex-girlfriends. 

“Chloe was a controlling bitch. She had problems. Anyway, what do you think of Belinda’s brothers? They weren’t as friendly as she was." 

“No, they weren’t—at first. But they're pretty cool once you start talking with them. Belinda’s younger brother Bill is going to live with her over the summer. He’s still in college, but seems nice enough" 

I wasn’t so sure. Belinda's friends and family had been a bit stand-offish. They could be funny when they wanted and could be nice when they wanted, but overall they just seemed too self-assured. Maybe it’s just my own lack of self-confidence, but guys who are too confident raise my hackles. 

Belinda’s brothers were good looking guys—and they knew it. They talked about their Ivy League education, their Ray-Bans, and name-dropped some Hollywood acquaintances. They weren’t quite as bad as Belinda's friend Darcy, but nearly so. 

* * *

It surprised me that Belinda was so eager to come to Seattle. I always thought she would settle in LA, or go back to the Bay Area. She had also talked about moving to New York, where her older brother Bob was. She really seemed like Seattle though, as she talked about possibly staying there long term, helping to run the new headquarters, and was already trying to get me to move up here too. 

That's Belinda in a nutshell. Everything in front of her is the best. She gushed over the house when giving us a formal tour the next day. It was a nice craftsman, with water views, but the way she talked, you’d think it was a castle. 

“Why didn’t you get something closer to tech campus in Fremont? They have nice condos overlooking Lake Union." 

“Ballard’s more authentic. It's the real Seattle!" 

I wonder how real Seattlites felt about their houses being rented and bought up by the influx of techies. There was already evidence of unrest over the new high-rise apartments and the homeless that were supposedly brought in or driven out by the nouveau riche. I left it at that. It was a nice location—quiet, but close to the shopping and restaurants in downtown Ballard. Besides which, Belinda and I hardly ever agree on anything. 

It’s strange that we’re such good friends when we’re almost polar opposites. Belinda is outgoing, easy-going, and easily led by others—something I have to admit that I have taken advantage of from time to time. I, on the other hand, am reserved, fastidious, and have pretty firm opinions about most things. Maybe it’s because of this that Belinda listens to me about most things—at least for a while—and respects my opinion on most matters. I’m the smart one in the relationship. Not that Belinda is dumb—she graduated from UCLA with a pretty good GPA, but I’m the more intellectually engaged one. 

Basically, I’m a nerd who can’t do small talk. I know that can be off-putting. Sometimes I think I hardly ever open my mouth except to correct someone’s information or cite a study. I must seem like a know-it-all. Belinda, on the other hand, is really popular wherever she goes. I sometimes get the feeling that people only befriend me because of her. 

“Oh my god! These pastries. Are. So. Good!” Belinda exclaimed over some pastries I had picked up from a local bakery called Cafe Besalu. Their yelp reviews had been high and the line had been long. They were pretty good pastries. 

“What did you think of the barbeque last night? Everyone was really friendly, right? People are so casual here! I feel like everyone in the neighborhood is really cool. And Ben Jarvi? So fine." 

This is one of the things I dislike about Belinda. Just because she had a good time, she thinks everyone else had the same experience. If you attempt to correct that misconception, then she’ll work really hard to convince you that you also had an experience similar to her own. She’s a bit egotistical that way. I wonder sometimes if I’m friends with her just so I can feel more mature by contrast. 

The party had been a sprawling group of people. They were no better or worse than most other people I’ve met—though I noticed almost all of them were white. I mean, I’m part white myself, but I’m used to seeing more Latino and Asian people around. They certainly hadn’t been fashion-conscious the way LA people were, which was refreshing, but maybe they were just fashion-conscious in a different way. There had been a lot of conspicuously outdoorsy North Face and Columbia clothes, which aren't exactly cheap. There had also been a surprising amount of tattoos, unusual piercings, and unnatural hair colors. Even some of the kids had colored hair! Maybe it was because it was summer. 

“Ben Jarvi is fine, if expressionless,” I responded.

Bill and Bob seemed to agree that he was pretty stoic (and who am I to judge?), but that he seemed cool and that they would be willing to hang out with him. Apparently he was a fisherman and knew people on that TV show “The Most Dangerous Catch." 


End file.
